Chapter 483: 481 : Distiller's Grains Steamed Buns
When it came to fermented grain steamed buns, Jiang Feng and Jiang Zaidi were no strangers, since Sir used to make them often during the New Year and winter and summer vacations.
It wasn’t for any particular reason, other than that Mrs. Jiang liked to eat steamed buns and, every morning, she wouldn’t eat pancakes, drink porridge, or have noodles, but would eat the fermented grain steamed buns made by Sir. As a result, those who mingled with Mrs. Jiang in the countryside also got to share in this treat, enjoying the steamed buns made by Sir every now and then.
The fermented grain steamed buns made by Sir were different from those made by others. While they also didn’t use yeast but a starter made from fermented grains, the proportions of the recipe and some additional secret ingredients were unique and closely guarded, amounting to a secret family technique. It was just that since Jiang Feng and his cousins didn’t learn the art of the white chef, Sir had not taught them.
Jiang Zaidi, among the younger Jiang Family members with the most money and the most freedom in his diet, would occasionally travel on business, having tasted a lot and thus felt entitled to his opinions.
“Yue, let me tell you, the reason you haven’t eaten really good fermented grain steamed buns is because those sold in stores are basically all the same. The ones my grandfather makes, now those are the best in the world,” Jiang Zaidi boasted after singing the praises of the steamed buns made by Sir, then honestly put down the last piece of lamb chop he hadn’t finished and grabbed a bun.
But with just a light squeeze, Jiang Zaidi realized that Eight-treasure House had some skill to dare charge dozens of times the price of ordinary steamed buns.
Decent fermented grain steamed buns should be plump and elastic. They should deflate when squeezed and bounce back when released, and should have a fragrance of alcohol when eaten. To achieve these qualities means the steamed buns are decent, but only just decent—this is the lower limit. How high the upper limit goes depends on the skills of the steamed bun master.
Jiang Zaidi took a bite of the steamed bun.
He nearly slapped the table and stood up.
“Holy shit, this is really good. Dude, you try it. Is something wrong with my taste buds? I think these taste just like Grandpa’s!” Jiang Zaidi exclaimed.
Jiang Feng: ???
It’s a wonder, with your thick brows and big eyes, over 200 pounds and Grandpa’s own grandson, that just a second ago you were praising Grandpa and putting down Eight-treasure House’s steamed buns, and now you’ve turned traitor.
Jiang Feng grabbed a fermented grain steamed bun and took a small bite.
When the bun reached his nose, the scent was clearer—a light fragrance of alcohol and another scent that was very familiar, not just the fragrance, but even the taste.
“Holy shit.” Jiang Feng defected on the spot, looking at Jiang Zaidi as the brothers found themselves speechless for a moment.
“De, wait a moment, I’ll ask,” Jiang Feng raised his hand to signal a waiter over, and the server approached them.
“Is this steamed bun made by Zheng Siyuan of your restaurant, Master Zheng?” Jiang Feng asked.
“That’s right, it seems you know our Master Zheng! Would you please fill out a feedback form for us later? If there is anything unsatisfactory about the dishes or anything particularly pleasing, you can write it down, and after that, we can give you a small water cup,” the server said enthusiastically.
“Is it really made by Master Zheng?” Jiang Feng questioned uncertainly.
“Of course, it’s made by Master Zheng. If you’re here specifically for Master Zheng, don’t worry that we’ll fool you with steamed buns made by some other chef. Our restaurant’s other white chefs don’t make these kinds of fermented grain steamed buns, only Master Zheng does,” the server began to reassure Jiang Feng, “Your portion was just taken out of the steamer; when it was served to you, wasn’t it piping hot?”
“Okay, thanks, I was just asking,” Jiang Feng nodded and let out a sigh of relief.
The moment the bun hit his mouth, he even had the terrifying thought that perhaps Sir, taking advantage of Taifeng Building’s closure, had slipped into Eight-treasure House to work under the table.
The taste of the fermented grain steamed buns made by Zheng Siyuan was just too similar to those made by Sir. If someone said the recipe was the same, Jiang Feng would believe it.
“What’s wrong?” Wu Minqi was confused by the reactions of Jiang Feng and Jiang Zaidi.
“Nothing much, the taste of this bun is a bit like Grandpa’s,” Jiang Feng explained.
He Yueru’s eyes grew wide, “Your grandpa makes such delicious steamed buns?”
“Even better than these!” Jiang Feng said firmly.
Taking advantage of Jiang Feng’s question, Jiang Zaidi had already finished the distiller’s grains steamed bun in his hand and reached out his guilty, fat hand towards the next one.
“But didn’t little brother’s grandpa tell us when we were young that this distiller’s grains steamed bun is our family’s secret recipe? How come the chef from Eight-treasure House knows how to make it, too? Could it be Grandpa was bluffing us?” Jiang Zaidi asked.
Jiang Feng pondered seriously for a moment and, in the process of thinking, finished the steamed bun in his hand.
“Zheng Siyuan’s dad and Dong Li’s master are sworn brothers, coming from the same school and they could both pass down the skills of the Red Chef and White Chef. So, their great master must have had serious culinary skills. Didn’t Grandpa always travel around the south in his early years, visiting various masters to learn cooking? It’s likely Grandpa also took their great master as his teacher and learned how to make the distiller’s grains steamed buns from him.” Jiang Feng analyzed coolly, feeling his analysis deserved full marks.
“If you’re not sure, why don’t you ask Grandpa during New Year’s? After all, everyone will be staying in the countryside, and you can see Grandpa every day,” Jiang Feng added.
“No, no, I won’t ask. If I ask the wrong question, I might get a beating. Getting beaten is a small matter, but not getting fed is a big one. If you want to ask, you go ahead,” Jiang Zaidi shook his head like a rattle, determined not to fall for it.
Of the six distiller’s grains steamed buns on the plate, Jiang Feng and He Yueru each had one, Ji Xia and Wu Minqi shared one, and Jiang Zaidi alone finished the remaining three.
After finishing the steamed buns, lunch also came to an end. Jiang Zaidi, as the main force of the meal, felt not only full but also a bit bloated after settling the bill and standing up, as if the food had stuck right in his throat.
Playing hooky while having a feast indeed led to indulgence because of too much happiness.
After profoundly chastising himself in his heart, he turned to ask Ji Xia, “Xiaxia, what should we … no, what should we buy this afternoon?”
They had already bought quite a few things in the morning, and many items on Ji Xia’s original list were vetoed by He Yueru. He Yueru had also proven her vetoes were valid with her knowledge and taste for these Beiping old shops.
After thinking for a while and feeling a bit torn, Ji Xia looked to He Yueru, “Sister Yue, can I buy a roast duck to take back for my mother-in-law?”
“Roast duck?” He Yueru immediately ruled out Ji Xia’s suggestion, “Roast duck isn’t good when ordered as takeaway, you have to eat it in the store. It’s delicious when it’s freshly sliced and still hot and crispy. If you buy it and take it all the way to Guangdong Province for your mother-in-law, it will lose much of its taste over such a long journey. Even though it’s winter and it won’t spoil easily, the flavor would have completely changed, and it wouldn’t be the taste that you wanted your mother-in-law to experience.”
“I see,” Ji Xia frowned, thinking for a moment, “Then forget it. I’ll bring my mother-in-law to Beiping and we’ll eat in the store. What I wanted to buy in the morning has mostly been bought; only cloth shoes, hair ties, and pastries are left.”
“Pastries are easy, I know a pastry shop that sells unique Beiping City treats, many of which are thought to be lost recipes only known by their shop’s chefs. I’ll take you there; you can try them in the store first, and whatever you find delicious, you can buy more to take back for your mother-in-law. Their sakima is particularly good, nothing like what you can find outside,” said He Yueru, intending to take everyone to the pastry shop.
She had barely walked a few steps when she suddenly stopped as though she remembered something.
“Xiaxia, if you can’t take roast duck back, you can take roast chicken instead. Our Beiping five-spiced roast chicken is also very famous!” He Yueru said.
Instantly excited, Ji Xia replied, “Really?”
“Of course! Just up the street, there’s a place that does fantastic roast chicken and prepares it especially for takeout. It’s not only roast chicken, they also have delicious soy sauce beef, roast chicken legs, fried beef cubes, sheep’s head meat, duck wings, and beef tendon. Come on, I’ll take you there,” He Yueru grabbed Ji Xia’s hand and moved towards the next shop.
“Burp.” Jiang Zaidi couldn’t help but let out a burp before chuckling, “Let’s go, little brother, let’s buy some too. We can bring it back for dinner or as a midnight snack.”
After all, he was so full now that he couldn’t even eat a chicken foot.
“De, remember we have the family reunion dinner tonight, and Grandpa and Granduncle Weiming are cooking,” Jiang Feng reminded.
“Then we’ll bring it with us and eat it tomorrow on the bullet train. Let’s go!”